Storm
by Apples Of Avalon
Summary: The heart was no longer meant to belong to just one of them. (Canon-Divergent Epic Mickey)


The moment Mickey Mouse wakes up in Wasteland, he feels deep inside him that something is...off.

(And it's not just the Shadow Blot's ink squirming under his skin like leeches, but he can't think about _that_ too much or else it'll drive him insane).

It's a feeling he can't quite explain. Like a strange déjà vu, when you forget something that you just can't remember no matter how much you try, even when deep down you know it's something you should've never forgotten in the first place. But surely he wouldn't have forgotten if it were that important, would he?

It's even stranger when he spots the black rabbit at Dark Beauty Castle. Because he is sure that he has never met him before, but at the same time it feels like a hole has split his heart open, that this rabbit is someone dear to him and forgetting him is the vilest thing he could've done. And for a second he swears he saw a similar feeling in the other's eyes, but he scampers away before he can even open his mouth.

Gus says his name is Oswald, and Mickey secretly hopes he doesn't see him again. These feelings that make no sense are scaring him.

As he leaves Dark Beauty Castle, the world he is greeted with leaves a bigger hole in his heart. Because he knows this place, but it's not the place he calls home; it's a dark, broken reflection of home, filled with blurry faces that he can't recognize and yet they seem to know him all too well. As he makes his way through Mean Street and Ostown, the growing familiarity makes him shudder.

The names "Clarabelle Cow" and "Horace Horsecollar" feel so endearingly familiar, and they make him think of parties and dancing and joyous laughter with friends in a warm midsummer afternoon. The memories are so close, like a word stuck on the tip of your tongue, but he doesn't reach out for them and suddenly they're gone again.

All he can do is shrug and shake his head.

As he leaves in both occasions, he can faintly hear Gus reassure him that it's not his fault and that it happens to anybody. But he barely hears him because Clarabelle's and Horace's looks of hurt and disappointment remain ingrained in his mind as they carve a new hole in his heart.

_That_, he won't forget.

It's the statue in Ostown what finally brings a smile to his face. At least one friendly face that he actually recognizes, a face he kept missing after so many years. Gus calls out for him, but he ignores the Gremlin as he slowly makes his way towards the center of the town as if entranced.

Mickey stands by the statue's feet, looking up at Walt's smiling face like a little child. It's an exact replica of the one at home, and for a moment he forgets where he is and everything seems warmer and brighter, and he can swear it feels as if Walt were _right there_-

And he's holding Oswald's hand, not his.

His eyes widen, and he takes a step back with his gaze focused on the grinning bronze rabbit holding on to Walt's hand. First comes confusion; why is Oswald the one beside Walt, and not him? Then comes anger; who does he think he is, replacing him like that by his father's side?! His hands shake into fists as he tries to suppress his anger.

"It's a nice likeness, though; isn't it?"

Gus places a hand on Mickey's shoulder. From the corner of his eye, he can tell that the Gremlin, while doing his best to console him, also seems...nervous. As if keeping something back from him. That just sours his mood even more, and he stuff his hands into his pant pockets to keep them from shaking. As they turn around to leave Ostown without a word, however, he looks over his shoulder at the statue one last time, and a melancholy that he can't quite explain jolts through his heart.

Seeing Oswald so happy with Walt _hurts_.

But not for the reasons he thinks of.

Mickeyjunk Mountain unsettles him the most. He had always found the merchandise that bore his face amusing and endearing, but now those same faces look down on him, their visages discolored and rotting and always, always smiling amidst the stench of garbage and Thinner. It sends shivers down Mickey's spine, and he wastes no time going after Gus towards the entrance to the mountain, making their way through Spatters and Seers.

The climb to the summit is long and arduous, and the sneering deck of cards don't make it any easier for him. They all talk of trials; three different monitors he must venture through if he wants to reach Oswald. His surprise is great when he notices that the cartoons in each monitor don't belong to either him or anyone he knows, but to the rabbit himself.

"He was the first of us to become a star...and the first to be forgotten."

Oh.

_**Oh**__._

That's why this place is so familiar to home. That's why Oswald is the one holding Walt's hand and not him. That's why Oswald hates him when they had never even seen each other face to face before.

He came first. Walt drew him first. He was famous before him, and yet by some twist of fate he ended up in Mickey's shadow, and the mouse was none the wiser about it.

Oswald is his brother.

His gaze is transfixed in the black and white poster of "Trolley Troubles"; fixed on Oswald's wide smile on the faded paper. A painful knot forms in his throat, and he has to look away. Gus places his hand on his shoulder again as he leads him to the first monitor.

"Why didn't Walt tell me…?"

Oswald's eyes are cold and hard, nothing like those of the rabbit that had smiled at him from the posters. Seeing him makes Mickey cringe like he's been struck, and a foul taste floods his mouth.

"My name's Mickey."

"Believe me, _I _know."

Of course he knows; Mickey feels anger and shame burn his cheeks as Oswald keeps yelling at him, hurling insults and disgusted looks one after the other. And every time he looks up to retaliate, to snap back at the rabbit, the bitterness in the other's eyes makes him bite his tongue again.

Oswald grabs a doll, and begins cleaning it with thinner. He seems to forget that Mickey and Gus are there, and for a moment there's more sorrow than rage in his eyes as he talks about his wife, his children and the simple happy lives they lived before-

The bottle falls to the floor. Thinner flies everywhere, and Mickey can feel his heart drop to his stomach.

He did this. He messed around with the brush, dropped that bottle full of thinner, let loose that...that **thing**-

He caused the Thinner Disaster.

He ruined his brother's life even more.

Oswald doesn't seem to notice the way Mickey stares at puddle of thinner he's trying to clean, his eyes wide and damp with tears. But Gus does, and he gestures wildly at the mouse before the rabbit notices. By the time Oswald turns around to yell at Mickey again, his face is paler but his eyes are dry and so he doesn't suspect a thing.

He then starts talking about hearts; how everyone in Wasteland lost theirs because they were no longer loved or remembered. How Mickey still had his own, and how that meant he could still leave Wasteland- and that's when Oswald's eyes light up, and he points outside of the room towards Tomorrow City, rambling about a Moonliner Rocket and a way out of this place.

"But Oswald - without a heart, WE can't leave."

The king of Wasteland doesn't give Gus an answer, but the strange glint in his eyes make chills run down Mickey's spine and in a blink he's off to Tomorrow City before either mouse or gremlin can stop him. They both wait for a while, staring at the door where Oswald had stood moments ago before Mickey finally goes after him.

His brother obviously doesn't want him here, and he's already made enough of a mess. Maybe it's better this way.

From Tomorrow City to Venture Land to Lonesome Manor, it takes more time for Mickey to get the Moonliner Rocket parts back. They were taken by the Mad Doctor by the time they made it to the city, and with Oswald leaving only vague instructions and more angry scowls, it finally falls down on him to get them all if he wants to leave.

The more he ventures deeper into Wasteland, the more he thinks of home. The more he wants to leave. And yet he feels inside that there is something more he needs to do here, something that must be mended.

But he's too scared. He doesn't want to ruin everything, not again.

He just wants to go home and forget.

After dealing with the Doctor in Lonesome Manor, his path leads him back to Mickeyjunk Mountain's summit and back to Oswald, who is struggling with a jug - one Mickey is all too familiar with - and whatever is contained inside it.

He says it's the Blot, the _real_ Blot. One that puts the Blot they've been fighting so far to shame, and the mere thought of that makes Mickey flinch.

And that's when he notices that Oswald's eyes are not so cold anymore. And when he stretches out his hand as a peace offering, Mickey's heart clenches painfully in his chest.

He can't do this. It's not fair, not to Oswald. And something is telling him that they need to do this, to make amends after being apart for so long, but not like this _**not like this**_-

"I caused the Thinner Disaster."

Gus stiffens. Oswald's ears droop, and he stares at Mickey like he didn't hear him right. But the mouse can see as the words slowly sink in through his brother's expression, his eyes alit with a fury no one in or out of Wasteland had ever seen before, and before he knows it he's being pinned down with hands squeezing the air out of his throat-

"YOU DID THIS YOU DID THIS TO ME YOU DID THIS TO MY HOME YOU DID THIS TO MY FRIENDS YOU DID THIS TO MY WIFE YOU RUINED EVERYTHING EVERYTHING _**EVERYTHING AGAIN**_-"

Colors blur around him, and his head is pounding and something in his brain is screaming that this is wrong, that this shouldn't be happening- and suddenly Oswald is off of him, and Gus' voice is hysterically asking him from what sounds like far, far away if he's alright. He gets to his knees, his entire body is shaking, and he sees Oswald lying right next to the Jug.

They both see the cork sealing the Jug shut, and their eyes meet for a split second.

Mickey doesn't know Oswald that well, yet somehow he knows that in other circumstances, better circumstances, he would've never considered to do what he's about to do. But right here and right now, he can see the anger, the _hurt _in his eyes that is too much for the rabbit to bear and for the mouse to see, and he realizes that it's too late, that Oswald is too far gone.

Gus reacts before Mickey can. "Oswald, **don't**-!"

But Oswald doesn't listen. His stare never breaks away from his younger brother's as he digs his nails into the cork, and Mickey wants to look away, away from his brother's hateful glare but he just _can't_.

The cork breaks. A single sob escapes him.

A howl tears through the wind, and the sky dyed orange by the setting sun turns dark. He cries out, the Blot's ink squirming under his skin in a frenzy that sends ripples of pain through his entire body. He can't make out anything around him, all he can see is black- and then he hears Oswald scream.

He cries louder, desperately scrambling to his feet even though his body is burning from within. It's his fault, all of this is his fault and he has to save him, he has to make it right-

Something cuts through him. Something cold and sharp cuts through ink and graphite, clawing its way to his chest, and Mickey screams louder. This pain is unbearable; it's ripping him apart, knocking the air right out of his lungs, and with a loud snap it tears away from him, and it takes something with it.

He opens his eyes.

His vision is blurry with tears, but he can still make out the mass of black ink twisting across the sky like a serpent, and a giant, melting black rabbit smiling cruelly at him. In its dripping claws, a small pink heart beats weakly, and the rabbit makes sure Mickey is watching as he raises the heart over its sharp-toothed maw before swallowing it.

Suddenly he's on his feet, running as far away from this rabbit that is not Oswald - he can't be Oswald, he _can't_ \- and he realizes Gus is the one dragging him down Mickeyjunk Mountain and back to Mean Street. He's shouting something over his shoulder, but it's like his ears are buzzing with radio static and he can't hear him. He looks back, watches as dozens of inky tentacles come out of the monstrosity wearing Oswald's face and stretch all over Wasteland without being able to look away.

Mickey's chest feels empty. There is a huge, gaping hole where his heart used to be, and it hurts so much. He wants the hole to disappear, to be filled again-

And suddenly he realizes; this is what Oswald went through for decades. This is what he put him through when he stole his heart from him.

When they arrive at Mean Street, he finally lets the tears fall.

"...need to do is get rid of those, er, 'bloticles' in order to cut off this...this Stormblot's paint supply and- Mickey, are you listening?"

He is, but just barely and he doesn't do anything to acknowledge Gus. He keeps looking down at his lap, shaking hands and bloodshot eyes, and the gremlin sighs as he shakes his head. "It wasn't your fault-"

"Liar."

"Mickey-"

"Oswald was right. I…" Mickey's grip on the brush tightens, and for a second Gus fears he'll snap it in two. "I took everything from him. I'm only f-famous because I stole his fame, and then I j-just had to fool around with the brush, a-and then the Blot, and the Jug, a-and the Thinner Disaster-!"

"It was an accident!" Gus takes one of Mickey's hands and pats it. He doesn't know what else to do as consolation; the pain and guilt he's going through is too much to handle and that much is visible. "Mickey, accidents happen. Hasn't everything you've done so far been to make everything right?"

"Yeah, and l-look how well that went!" He snaps back, spreading his arms wide, gesturing at Mean Street around him. The Wastelanders had evacuated the place and taken to hiding underground inside the D.E.C., leaving the place like a ghost town as the 'bloticles' sucks what little paint it had left. In the distance, Oswald's- no, _The_ _Stormblot's _monstrous laughter rumbles across the sky like thunder. "L-look at this, Gus! All of t-this is _my_ fault! M-MINE!"

Gus can do nothing but watch sadly as Mickey sinks to his knees, gasping loudly for air between sobs. He wants to console him, especially with the grim ultimatum looming in the horizon, but he also knows that the young mouse needs this. To let out all this bottled pain and grief.

Once Mickey's sobs have quieted down a bit more, the gremlin teleports beside him. "Oswald had paint rockets prepared as a last resort against The Blot, before Ortensia…" He cleared his throat; "A-anyways, we can use them now; it could help us separate the Blot from Oswald. But we should get rid of the bloticles first in order to weaken its influence."

No answer.

"Mickey, please…" He places both hands on his shoulders so that they can meet eye to eye. "This is your chance to make everything right, isn't it? I can't do this alone! And Wasteland needs your help more than ever! _Oswald_ needs your help more than ever!"

Mickey bites his lip.

"Your brother needs you."

A shudder, and then with great effort he stands up. His legs are shaking and his eyes are still bloodshot from crying, but he wipes the tears away and takes a deep breath. When he looks in the distance at the Stormblot, and then at Gus, the determination in his eyes give the gremlin new hope.

He's still tired, still hurt, but he's not down for the count.

"Let's finish this."

It takes another trip through Wasteland to destroy the Bloticles and stop the flow of Paint. Ostown, Tomorrow City, Ventureland and Lonesome Manor; they all look even worse than the first time around, and even though Mickey feels exhausted to the bone and the Blot's Ink in him is not making it any easier, this sight gives him enough determination to power his way through it.

His quest leads him back to Ostown, and there he notices that The Stormblot is no longer seen in the distance across the sky. For a single moment he's hopeful that they managed to defeat the Blot, that everything is alright, and when he spots a small black rabbit right before the statue the dream seems almost real.

But the ink under his skin squirms and tightens painfully around his bones, and there are dark droplets dripping out and into Oswald's body just like with him. It's still far from over.

"He always liked you better."

Mickey already knows who he's talking about. Oswald doesn't move an inch, transfixed in Walt's statue as he faces away from his brother.

"Even after he left Universal, even after he drew you and made his own company, I waited for him." His inky hand reaches out for Walt, then stops and reels back. "I thought: 'hey, if he's so famous now, surely he could file a lawsuit and win. Or he could just buy me back from Mintz. Walt wouldn't just...forget about me.' And one day, he actually came back, walked right into Mintz's office, and I thought that I was finally going back home."

He lowers his head. "And you know what I heard him say?"

Mickey doesn't reply. The hole in his chest throbs painfully, and he knows he won't like the answer.

"Mintz...he wanted him back." Oswald runs his fingers across the statue's plaque, the ink dripping from them blurring the letters away. "He begged him to come back to work for Universal again, and even offered to return me to him, no strings attached. And Walt just…"

A deep breath, a shudder.

"He...started yelling. About how he couldn't...he couldn't even look at me anymore because it made him...it made him _sick._ That Mintz could keep me for all he cared because I was worthless to him..." He's suddenly laughing, but it sounds hollow and dry and the fingers gripping to the base of the statue are making dents and cracks into the stone ; "and why wouldn't I be, now that he had someone obviously so. Much. _**Better?**_"

Something cold and bitter floods Mickey's mouth. He shakes his head. "Walt wasn't perfect like most people made him out to be, b-but there's no way he would-"

"Do something so cruel? Heh, you really are a stupid goody-two-shoes." Oswald turns around, and Mickey struggles not to flinch and look away. His face is melting, white and black mixing into a dirty grey as his eyes slide down his face. Never had he looked so miserable and in pain before; "People forget things; that's the way it is. But the person I trusted the most _wanted_ to forget about me. Meanwhile, he loved you because you gave him the fame I tried and failed to give him. He never told you about me because he was _ashamed_ of me, because he didn't want you to realize he could've easily replaced you with a better cartoon the same way he replaced _me _with _you!_"

Mickey looks down at his feet. He wants to snap back and tell Oswald that he's wrong, that he's a liar because Walt would never even think of doing such a thing….but deep inside, he's not so sure anymore. He can't bring himself to be angry at his brother anymore.

"I….I never wanted this, Oswald."

The rabbit doesn't answer; he stands there, staring right at the mouse with his melting eyes as if registering his words. And Mickey can swear he saw those eyes soften if only for a second. But it doesn't last long, and the earth begins to shake as Oswald's inky body begins to shimmer and blur.

"It doesn't matter anymore." He hisses as more ink accumulates in his body, twisting it into impossible shapes; "I'll be free again. I'll see the world again, and this time…"

A gooey black claw slams on the spot Mickey had been standing on a second ago, and he can only watch as Oswald reforms back into the Stormblot, towering over all of Wasteland. The ink monster leans down to stare at him eye to eye, and his maw opens into a hideous smile that drips with Thinner.

"_I'll make sure no one forgets me __**EVER AGAIN!**__"_

Had he still a heart it would've skipped a beat at the sight, but Mickey holds his ground; he couldn't back down now.

He owes his brother. He owes all of Wasteland.

He can't tell if the fight lasted years or seconds by the time it's finally over.

The first thing Mickey feels when he regains consciousness is pain. His whole body is sore, his hand still holding the Paintbrush in a death grip, but he finally manages to get to his feet to take a look around him.

Ostown is in shambles. Whatever had been left standing from the Stormblot's assault had been reduced to rubble in their fight, slathered in paint and thinner and ink. The sky overhead is still dark and stormy, yet there's no sign of the Blot or of...

Oswald….where's Oswald?

Panicking, Mickey scrambles through the debris, ignoring the complains of his aching body as he makes his way around town. But his body freezes once he spots the town's fountain; its waters have turned filthy and murky with Thinner (or at least more so than usual) and Walt's corroded statue is holding on to only a severed metal arm now that Oswald's statue has been torn apart from the base.

His brother is sitting by Walt's feet. His eyes are hollow, transfixed in a red, warm light encased in his cupped hands. Mickey carefully walks closer to him but he doesn't even seem to notice him, and the mouse' eyes light up with the glow of his own heart in the rabbit's hands.

"It's so warm."

Mickey opens his mouth but closes it again. He figures Oswald deserves this moment, at least. The rabbit holds the heart like it's made of glass, afraid that it might break. "I had forgotten how it felt," he whispers hoarsely, a tear slipping down his cheek; "I...I can feel the love of so many people here. I missed it so badly…"

He looks at the sky, where the sun used to be. But there are only grey clouds to greet him. "I just wanted to see the real world again, feel the real sun. I wanted that for me and for all of us. A second chance to be loved again….y'know?"

The hole inside Mickey's ribcage throbs painfully, and he places a hand over his chest. He misses having a heart as well, but he knows that Oswald misses the feeling even more, after so many years. And when Oswald slowly, reluctantly, holds out the heart for him to grab...he just can't do it.

His heart suddenly doesn't feel _his_ anymore. Was it ever his to begin with?

"But I can't do it with this heart; it's not mine anymore. And not without my friends, or…." The rabbit swallows painfully; "or without my family. Not without Ortensia." The grip on the heart tightens ever so slightly, its light glowing stronger. "So just take it and leave. Get out of here and don't come back."

The heart's glow begins to diminish, vibrant red slowly turning into a dull maroon. Mickey's hand hover over it, fingers trembling, and a quick glance at his brother shows that he's looking away, lips pursed in angry resignation that decreases his resolve to take it even more. He doesn't know what to do; he wants to go back home, but he can't leave things between him and Oswald as they were before either and it's tearing him apart-

"You should keep it." His voice is beginning to tremble again, and he tries to blink the tears away before the other notices. "I-I mean, this is my fault and-and you were right….and-"

"Save it, Mouse." Oswald growls, and holds out the heart towards Mickey more aggressively. "Shut up and take it."

"...B-but Oswald-"

"Why are you doing this!?" Oswald pulls on his ear with his free hand, teeth gritting in frustration as he turns away from Mickey. "I took your heart, I tried to kill you and now you're just giving it to me!? Is this your idea of a joke, or do you really think I'm _that_ pathetic!? _Why are you trying to help me now!?_"

"Because it's not fair!" Mickey grabs Oswald's shoulder and forces him to look at him. The rabbit is ready to yell at him, but he's taken back by the genuine regret and sorrow in the mouse's eyes. "T-this is all wrong! All of this should've never happened to y-you and the others! I should've known, I s-should've done something to help instead of ruining everything a-and…"

"And even if it's true that everyone's forgotten you, that Walt _w-wanted_ to forget you…" Mickey places his hand over the heart, but doesn't take it away from Oswald's. His brother's eyes widen, his hollow eyes now alit; "I don't want to forget you! _I don't want to forget my brother-!"_

He's cut off by a gasp, and his hands fly to his chest. Oswald reaches out for him, but something in his own chest bursts - not with pain, but with something that he can't describe, something that knocks the breath out of him - and his grip on the heart falters.

It never hits the ground.

A burst of radiant light comes out of the heart, flooding both Mickey and Oswald, flooding Ostown with its warmth. What remains of the Shadow Blot dissolves and fades away, and the debris of the destroyed town becomes whole and colorful again. The light goes beyond Ostown, into Mean Street and soon into all corners of Wasteland, and heals all that was once torn apart by the Blot and by the Thinner Disaster.

Inert cartoons all over the land come to life again. The waters corrupted by Thinner become pure and clean again. And somewhere at the top of the not so Dark Beauty Castle, a certain cat's stone prison crumbles to dust.

Mickey and Oswald cannot look away from the heart as it works its magic on Wasteland; the light is bright and intense, yet it doesn't hurt their eyes. It's soft and warm, and for a second they can both swear they can hear the laughter and cheers of thousands of people, the love from all those voices washing over them.

Mickey had felt that love for years, but never as strongly as this. Oswald had felt it so long ago, but he had been sure he would never experience it again.

Suddenly the light recedes back into the floating heart, and it gently floats towards Mickey's chest. But before it sinks back into him, the tiniest fragments break off it and float towards Oswald's chest and into him.

Suddenly, the hole where his own heart had been over 80 years ago doesn't feel so empty anymore. With watery eyes, he meets Mickey's gaze; neither of them says anything, but they both understand now.

With the years, this heart had grown with love from all over the world and all over the ages. It was no longer a mere heart; it could no longer belong to just Oswald or Mickey.

The heart belongs to the two of them. It always did.

It might take time for Oswald to reclaim his heart, and so Mickey has to keep it. But now they both know that things can be changed, that the Lucky Rabbit has not been truly forgotten yet.

Neither says anything as they walk towards the other. Neither says anything as they hug for the first time. But there are no words needed; what they feel in their heart is enough.

By the time Gus finds Oswald, hordes of excited Bunny Children behind him, the rabbit is sitting by the restored fountain in Ostown and looking at the clear blue sky ahead. He laughs with a joy the Gremlin hadn't heard in decades as his sons and daughters smother him with hugs and cries of joy, and never had he seen a brighter smile from the King of Wasteland the moment they make way for the Queen to come through.

Mickey is nowhere to be seen, but Gus doesn't fret about it. He guesses that he finally made it back home safely, and somehow, the happiness and serenity that radiates from Oswald convinces him of this.

Mickey honestly expects a worse punishment from the wizard that pulled him out of Wasteland, but other than a good scolding and taking back the Brush, the man does nothing but place him back into his room through the mirror he came in. And as he turns around to face him, he swear he can see something akin to pride in his eyes.

That's when the mirror begins to shimmer, but instead of his own reflection, it greets him with colorful buildings and cartoons of all shapes and sizes celebrating in the streets. It takes him a while to recognize Wasteland now that it is restored, but what truly calls his attention are the black rabbit surrounded by hundred of tiny blue bunnies by the Town Square.

The little rabbits are the ones to notice him first, and they tug at their father's pants to catch his attention. Oswald's eyes lit up, and he eagerly leads Ortensia towards him to introduce her. After many thanks, jokes and laughs, Mickey realizes why his brother was so broken without her.

He knows this can't last forever, so without a word he places a hand against the glass. Oswald catches on, and with a smile places his own hand in place. Both hands match each other perfectly, and again there are no words needed as they smile at each other.

He barely even notices when the mirror goes back to normal, when Oswald's reflection ends and his own begins. He barely notices how tired he is until he finally drags himself over to his bed and his exhaustion catches up to him. He's home at last, after so long, but after everything that has happened he can't help but feel like he lost something.

He gives the mirror one last glance before falling asleep, and the loss he feels diminishes. Because he knows this is far from being the last time they see each other; he just hopes he gets to see his brother next time under more favorable circumstances.

He dreams of showing Oswald and his family the sun they missed so badly. Reunited, like they were always meant to be.


End file.
